Rainy Skies
by Chi-Chan11
Summary: When England meets someone he shouldn't have, he finds himself smitten with a girl struggling to accept her place in the world. With a little help, he may just be able to see a side of her that even she didn't know about. Contains an OC
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! So this is going to be a fluffy little story that I thought up one day, Washington is my original design, and I hope everyone likes her. I got sick of seeing all of the Twilight inspired Washington's so I decided to base mine off the artistic sides of people I've met. Enjoy!**

**-Chi-Chan11**

**P.S- I have posted this for a few hours before, but I took it down for some looking over. All of the writing is mine, so no worries!**

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England sat at a table quietly, waiting for someone else to get there. There was a meeting today, and he thought that at least America could have been there before him, being that he was hosting the conference. Looking out the window, he sighed at the gray clouds dominating the sky. This was a new place to him, Olympia, Washington. If he had heard right on the phone when America had called him at one in the morning, was that due to construction and maintenance, this was the only place he could book last minute. It was drizzling lazily outside, and the ground was spattered with dark splotches.

Footsteps from down the hall interrupted the beginnings of a daydream. Listening closely, the footfalls sounded too light to be Russia, too heavy to be China and well France, was France. It must be America. Becoming impatient, England sighed heavily, wondering how long it took to walk down a hallway and open a door. However, after a second, muffled voices cut through the silence. They were inaudible, but England could tell immediately that America was not in fact talking to himself, but to another unknown woman. Becoming confused, England walked over to the door, opening it a crack so he could listen.

"Dammit Alfred! We had planned this outing for weeks, and you really can't cancel last minute?" He could literally hear the pout after the end of the sentence, who was America talking to?

"Hey, I'm really sorry Sea. We can go out hiking next weekend, okay?" The American sighed, and England was even more confused. He had never heard America call anyone "Sea" before, and the woman's voice sounded extremely unfamiliar.

"No," a breathy sigh came from the hall. "You already said you were going sailing with Penny, you shouldn't cancel on her, and besides", the unknown girl chuckled. "She's not as forgiving as I am, remember that." England was now about as confused as he could get, tugging on his hair awkwardly, he debated on stepping outside and seeing who in fact this girl was. Deciding that would be a bad idea at the time, he mulled over his thoughts.

'_Sea, Penny? Who are these girls? And why does America has so many plans, he usually brags about his plans.' _Scratching his arm absentmindedly, he continued listening, hoping to pick up on more of this odd situation.

"I guess your right Seatta, Penny would kill me. No one's here yet, so I guess we can talk for a few minutes or something. You want a burger?" The smell of beef and grease permeated into the conference room, making the Brit silently gag.

"Sure, I'll humor you. I don't like McDonalds too much, it's a bit heavy on my stomach. Burgerville's much better and you know it." The girl now indicated as Seatta laughed happily, and the sound of paper crumpling cut across the conversation.

"What? There must be something wrong with you Sea, McDonalds is the best!" America had a faux distraught tone laced into his voice.

"Whatever, Burgerville's a northwest thing. Besides, I don't eat the stuff all the time. You're such a sucker for the stuff anyway; I don't understand how you say so thin." England felt a tiny glimmer of respect towards this girl; the jab was well executed, but was not completely mean.

"I'm hurt," America replied sarcastically, "but whatever, how are Carlos and Isaac?" Again, more odd names, narrowing his eyes, England continued to listen.

"You should know Alfred, you're seeing them in a few weeks!" A sharp noise indicated that Seatta had slapped America.

"Oh no! Not my arm!" Through the noisy laughter, England could hear a squeak as she was swept into a hug. "Thanks for giving up our weekend," this girl was no stranger, England had guessed that long ago, but confirmed it now. However, she didn't sound like a girlfriend or anything intimate. Perplexed into action, England stood up swiftly, feeling his back pop from being bent over for so long. Taking a deep breath, he spoke.

"Hey America, is that you?" He reached for the door, but paused when a cacophony of noise greeted him. A startled squeak and thump jerked him back into reality, and he swung the door open.

"Hey Iggy! What's up?" America was leaning on a broom closet door and the casual pose was so fake looking, England wanted to laugh. A McDonalds bag was sitting by his feet, a wrapper discarded on the floor. Taking a few steps forward, he looked at the American sternly.

"Who were you talking to? I didn't recognize the voice," dropping off as he thought, he wrinkled his nose in surprise when a misty floral scent hit his nose. "And when did you start wearing women's perfume?"

"I wasn't talking to anybody! You must be hearing things Iggy," smiling idiotically, America stretched, kicking the wrapper down the hall. "What are you doing here so early? I didn't hear you," it was obvious he was trying to change the subject.

"I'm always here early you git, and besides, you usually just barge in. Now, I know you're lying to me, who were you talking to?" England crossed his arms snappily, becoming impatient. Through the awkward silence, a muffled thump sounded through the hall, "what was that?" Another thump.

"What? That? Oh, it was nothing Iggy, I didn't hear anything!" The smiling America was talking loudly, obviously trying to mask something, then, as if the world was working against America, the voice sounded, loudly.

"Dammit Alfred, open the door NOW!" An perceptibly pissed off girl was pounding on the door from the inside. "What's going on out there?" More heavy thumping.

"Oh really? Nothing, that must be nothing." Smirking, England looked at America, who was looking elsewhere.

"Hey, I'll be right back England!" With no warning, the American dashed off like a madman, going around a corner and vanishing.

"Damn!" The girl cursed again, thumping on the door. "Why did he run off?" The thumping stopped for a minute, and England felt slightly sorry for the poor girl. Walking up to the door, he undid the lock quietly. He was reaching for the doorknob when the door burst open, followed by the girl hurtling behind it in an attempt to open the door. The door banged against the wall, and the girl, now in a momentum trap, slammed into England and sent them both sprawling to the floor.

England had shut his eyes upon impact, and now tentatively opened them when he felt breath on him face. A curtain of caramel brown hair was surrounding him, and looking up, he found himself greeted by one forest green eye, and another smoky gray one that had a horrifying scar running over it and down her cheek. With an alarmed shriek, she tumbled off of him, getting to her feet with a start. Reaching down, she pulled him to his feet, cheeks flaming red.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry sir!" With wide eyes, she twisted around and ran in the direction America had taken off in, voice echoing down the hall, "Alfred! What the hell was that?" Very confused, and extremely embarrassed, England took off down the hall after the odd pair.

"Wait!" A flicker of caramel disappeared around a corner and England followed it intently, slowly catching up to this strange girl. As they rounded each corner, England could see more of the girl: a longer streamer of caramel, the edge of a denim jacket and finally a glimpse of her face. After a few minutes of running through the building, England caught the pair, the girl chewing out America.

"Why would you do that Alfred?" The cross girl was glaring up at a sheepish America, the pair did not seem to notice him, so he decided to watch for a second before getting his questions answered.

"What do mean Seatta?" Grinning amiably, America tried to deflect his counterparts scolding, but to no avail.

"You know damn well what!" she screeched irritably, "why would you run off like that?"

"That I would like to know as well," interrupting softly, England gazed at the pair. Seatta spun around with wide eyes, paling considerably.

"Aw crap," America cursed softly, pulling the girl backwards and behind him, "Yup, we're screwed."

"America, who is she?" Looking at the girl carefully, he tried to determine if he had seen her before. She had long caramel colored hair, laden with leaf-green streaks and wide eyes, one bright green, the other an ashy gray color. A long and very noticeable scar was stretched across the gray eye and down her cheek, the rest hidden by her bangs. A long piece of hair was marring her left eyebrow, a rebellious piece from the rest. She was dressed casually, a pair of gray jean capri's and a black tank top that was covered by a paint-stained denim jacket that had two small pins on the collar. A purple and gray plaid scarf was coiled around her neck. She was definitely unfamiliar. "I don't recognize her."

"Well um, Iggy-"

"Bloody hell America, I told you not to call me that!" The Brit interrupted with a snap before letting the American continue.

"Right, well, okay, England this is Seatta-Eve Wilson, better known as Washington, she's one of my states." Blushing, America pushed the girl towards him, she stumbled slightly, then quickly regained her footing.

"Well, you know my name now Mr. England, Seatta-Eve Wilson. Welcome to my home," smiling slightly, she reached out a hand and England shook it. To his horror, he realized that she was only a few inches shorter than he was.

"Nice to meet you Seatta, Seatta, is that a play-off of the city Seattle by any chance?" The odd name certainly did sound like the infamous city.

"It is! Glad to hear someone finally figured it out," Smiling even more brightly, she fiddled with one of the pins on her collar, which turned out to be an apple, to other was a paintbrush. Smiling in return, England looked over the jacket, noting the multi-colored stains that were most definitely paint.

"You're an artist I presume, judging by the paint decorating your clothes," pursing his lips silently, Washington nodded her head.

"Yep, I do all sorts of stuff, my section of the house is covered in portraits and painting, I'm sort of in a modern phase." Washington rocked back and forth on her toes, heavy hiking boots making a thump every time they hit the ground.

"Interesting," England turned to America, "how are you planning to continue the meeting, there is no way you can get her out unseen, the meetings right about to start." The American sighed heavily, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

"Well, on that note, my daughter will have to tag along, this is her state after all, she has a right to be here."

"Your daughter? That doesn't seem right, you act quite different from each other, prove it." Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, England watched America go up to Washington and attempt to brush the wayward hair out of her face.

"Hey! Don't mess with the Olympic Peninsula!" Washington glared as she pushed the piece back to its original spot.

"See?"

"Oh, of course, she named that piece of her hair?"

"Like father, like daughter!" Chuckling softly, America grabbed Washington's arm, "come on Seatta, England go on ahead, I'll take her in in a minute." Shrugging nonchalantly, England walked stoically back to the conference room, pretending he had just been out wandering around. The meeting room was crowded now, and he sat back in his seat, the chair to his left now occupied by Romano, the two chairs to the right were unoccupied.

With a soft bang, the door swung open, and America walked in followed by a shy-looking Washington. The pair took the seats to England's right, and by now, all eyes were on them. Germany finally broke the silence, gazing down at Washington.

"America, would you like to tell us who that is?"

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**Wow, amazing ending on my part. But still, reviews are always appreciated, the personification of the states is of my own design, so they are all original characters. I'll try to post the next chapter soon, but I am juggling two other stories, one of which is quite popular. Thank you for reading! Oh, Burgerville is a fast-food restaurant exclusively in the Pacific Northwest, I love it, but that's my opinion. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**~Chi-Chan11**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone! This is the next chapter of Rainy Skies, and well, that is all I am going to say about that. Reviews are always appreciated! **

**~Chi-Chan11**

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At the mention of his name, America froze for a second, stock still before slinking to his seat, leaving Washington to the scrutinizing eyes of the other nations. A soft blush crept over her cheeks and she immediately pulled her hair forward, nearly covering her face.

"America, you do know this is a private meeting?" An exasperated Germany was gazing at Washington with curiosity, looking her up and down. She in the meantime was trying to creep to her seat, but to no avail. "Why don't you come up and introduce yourself?" Beckoning her up, Germany side-stepped from the podium. For a moment, England felt a pang of sympathy for the poor girl, she was obviously embarrassed about something, and was refusing to show her face from under her hair.

"W-well, my name is S-Seatta-Eve W-Wilson, more w-well known as the p-personification of t-the E-Evergreen State, W-Washington." A nervous stutter had slipped into her voice, and England could see her hands shaking. "W-Welcome to my h-home," with a quick nod, she dashed to her seat, hair partially uncovering her ivory skin. Washington took the seat between England and America, scribbling her name in the corner of the notepad.

The meeting began like usual, assorted yelling and arguing that seemed incessant, England did his fair share, getting into a fight with France over something he said. Washington had stayed quiet, watching the others with her odd eyes, still hiding the gray one. About half an hour into the meeting, she leaned over towards England.

"Is this how it always goes?" Her voice was nearly inaudible, laced with disbelief.

"Yes, pretty much, yelling, fighting, the usual array. This meeting has gone downhill enough that you can just talk normally." Answering back just as quietly, he watched her straighten up, revealing a notebook covered in notes, as well as some oddly shaped passages, but when he leaned over to look at them, she snapped the book shut quickly; shaking her head as a silent "no". The subtle warning dislodged the cover over her eye, revealing the gray eye and scar. Holding his breath to prevent a gasp, he looked around to see if anyone else had seen her scar.

Italy had seen, he was gazing on with wide amber eyes. With a startled squeak at being noticed, he slid backwards into his brother, who cursed in surprise.

"Damn! That hurt Italy!" With a sharp smack, Italy shifted back forward, unhappily rubbing the side of his head.

"Washington," at the sound of her name, the young state turned, having not bothered to hide her scar. "What's that?" He placed a finger on his cheekbone, indicating the mark.

"Well, it's a scar of course," blinking slowly, she brushed her finger along the mark that seemed to upset her so.

"Well, where's it from then?" Unrelenting in his own innocent way, Italy kept up the stare, cocking his head to the side like a puppy might.

"I don't like to talk about it much, the memory is painful," blushing slightly, she tried to return to her notes, only to have Romano notice and jump into the conversation.

"That's one hell of a scar! It kind of makes you look like a guy if you didn't have so much hair!" Washington spun to face him, eyes narrowed to harsh slits.

"You're a bastard, you know that?" She spat the words quickly, blushing cherry red.

"How hard is it to tell us what it's from?" Glaring right back, Romano was quick to reply.

"I don't want to!" Her voice rose dramatically, the blush turning from one of embarrassment, to one of fury.

"Hey!" A sharp yell interrupted the quickly growing fight, "leave her alone Romano!" America had intervened, placing a hand on Washington's shoulder.

"I will once she tells us all why she has a massive damn scar running down her face!" Stomping his foot defiantly, Romano swept his hand around, indicating the rest of the room that had stopped to stare.

"Show some damn sympathy! That scar is the result of the deadliest eruption in my damn history!" England watched with a curiosity as Washington spun around, a fire in her eyes.

"That was my load to bare and you know it! You know what happened!" The harsh retort cracked at the last words, and she stormed out, growling under her breath.

"Tell me Amérique, would that event that Miss Washington is speaking of be the Mt. Saint Helens eruption?" France had now joined the conversation, and the glint in his eye seemed a little off. "If you would like, I could go provide a little comfort."

"Not on my life," America glared at France, with an expression that dared him to try. "Iggy, can you go after her? She's met you, and doesn't want to slap you across the face."

"Fine, I'll go. Don't call me Iggy you git." Quietly, England left the conference room, looking around to see if he could spot the state. Hearing no footsteps, he made his way down the carpeted hallway, listening for any sign of another person in the room.

A muffled thump, followed by a harsh squeak immediately drew his attention. Going around a corner, England was surprised to see Washington sprawled out on the floor, a large rumple in the rug betraying what had caused the fall.

"Hey, are you alright Seatta?" England crouched next to Washington, watching her as she struggled to sit up. She managed to pull herself up so she was braced against the wall, England watched as she stood shakily, clutching her wrist delicately.

"Ow! Damn, what did I do?" A soft moan escaped her lips, and Washington pressed lightly on the now bruising wrist, making her shriek with pain.

"Well then, you certainly took quite a fall. Do you need any help?" England watched in concern as tears sprung to the girls eyes, betraying a much weaker side of the confident state. "I take it though that you've been through a lot worse, given the mark it's left behind."

Washington allowed herself to be led back into the meeting room, she had untied her scarf and tied it in a way that it now acted as a make-shift sling, pinning the limb to her body. "I'm such a klutz," she smiled half-heartedly "but I do guess it has been worse, a thousand times worse." With surprise, England watched a haunted look cross over her eyes, and the memories that only she could see.

"The smoke, all those cries," a hoarse murmur cut through the temporary silence, "day turning to night in an instant." With a barely audible whimper, she reached for England's shoulder in an unconscious attempt to seek comfort. Feeling awkward, England patted her back softly, hoping she would stop soon.

"We'll be back in the conference room in a second, America will take care of you," as they rounded the next corner, the chattering of the nations was suddenly booming, echoing out of the room. He led Washington discretely into the room, only to be discovered by America immediately.

"England, why is Sea crying?" America stormed up to the pair, pulling Washington into a tight hug, "what did you do to my little girl?"

"Little girl? Amérique, would you care to explain how you came to be with such a pretty little chéri?" France smiled coyly, moving closer to Washington each chance he got.

"Back off France," with one hand, America shoved the Frenchman away, "and all of my states have personifications, each group has their own house, the Pacific Northwest house is in Seattle, and the personifications of Washington, Oregon, California and Idaho live there." The nations who cared to pay attention were watching with interest, obviously surprised at this new discovery.

"That's pretty much it," Washington had pulled away from America, "we were kind of a secret, but now I guess, it's no secret anymore."

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**Well another chapter published! I'll try to get another in before I leave for a two week trip, but no promises. Thanks for reading!**

**~Chi-Chan11**

**Characters:**

**Oregon: Penny**

**California: Carlos**

**Idaho: Isaac**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone! I'm sorry I didn't get to update sooner, but I was on a camping trip and was out of internet range. We'll meet the rest of the Pacific Northwest states in this chapter. **

**Enjoy!**

**-Chi-Chan11**

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It had been about three days since the meeting where England and the rest of the world had met Seatta-Eve Wilson, better known as Washington. She had taken a fall at the meeting, and it looked like she had injured her wrist. Naturally, England was a bit worried since America was not well known to be a responsible person. He had driven up to Seattle a few hours ago, and the Brit had spent a bit of time wandering through the sidewalks and window shopping, but there was a task at hand, and he had no more time to spare.

Another half hour of driving landed England in front of a spacious house that overlooked Puget Sound. Checking the address written on a slip of paper America had given him, he found it was in fact correct.

Getting out of the car, the Brit walked slowly up the concrete driveway. The house itself was quite modern, with large windows capturing the filtered sunlight and sleek lines. He was now standing on the porch, staring quietly at the white front door, a woven welcome mat and a pair of bright green flip-flops were strewn across the floor. Wondering if they were Washington's, England examined the shoes from a distance, quickly discovering that they belonged to a boy.

Shaking his head to clear away the distracting thoughts, England rapped his knuckles on the door, hearing an echo pass into the house. A flurry of thumping sounded from deep inside the house, and within thirty seconds, the door was flung open. It was a girl, but certainly not Washington.

This girl was shorter, only about 64 inches tall and her body was heavily padded with curves that made her look older than she was. A mop of sandy red hair jutted out at harsh angles, as her hair only reached her earlobes; and a set of brown eyes gazed casually at England. Letting his eyes flicker over this new girl, he noted how she was dressed, in a gray mini-skirt and a tight lace embellished white tank top with a t-shirt lacking shoulders layered on top of it; a pair of white flats did nothing to add to her height, and white sunglasses peeked from inside her hair. Silver piercings jutted from her nostril, the bridge of her nose and all around the ears themselves. Curling his lip slightly in disgust at the blatant abuse of body art, England let his emerald gaze lock back onto the girl's eyes.

"Hi, can I help you?" The girl chewed on a wad of bubblegum as she spoke, and the mouthful added a sarcastic tone to her voice.

"I'm here to visit Miss Seatta-Eve Wilson, otherwise known as Washington," stating his business frankly, the Brit watched the girl nod and smile.

"Oh, alright! My names Penny-Marie Wilson, the personification of Oregon, Sea is my little sister. Come on in," the sarcastic attitude had been dropped and replaced by a happier sounding girl. "Seatta is probably in her section of the house, it's the northwest corner; you'll know your there when you can see all the pictures on the wall. Carlos and Isaac don't know you're here, I'll let them know. Just go ahead and wander or whatever." With that, Oregon walked off, flats clicking against the floor softly, thus leaving England alone.

Shaking his head at the ignorance of Oregon, England made his way to the upper left hand corner of the big house. As he moved through, he could see the atmosphere of the house changing. It went from a very generalized theme, to one plastered with movie posters and pin-ups of bikini-clad girls and to one clad with little knick-knacks and obscure pieces of art.

After a little bit of walking, England reached what could only be Washington's section of the house. Almost every inch of the walls were covered in varying styles of art, and without it, the area would look quite plain with the cherry hardwood and cream colored walls. Along this portion of the hallway appeared to be a line of self-portraits, arranged in chronological order.

The first was of Washington looking unlike herself, the caramel colored hair was longer, and woven into a braid. The leaf colored streaks were also gone, and to England's surprise, the eye that he knew to be gray and marred by a scar was bright green like its counterpart. Washington was dressed strangely as well, in leather garb and with a tiny bow slung over her shoulder. She was sitting cross-legged in a foggy clearing, smiling softly, and she looked years younger, only about six or so. The Brit assumed this was from the period where the Native Americans were greatly occupying the area, and Washington was just a new territory.

The next was of a more grown up Washington, this girl looked about eleven or twelve. The hair and eyes were still the same as the last, except the braid was covered by a cotton cap. She was clad in a blue dress with dirty white petticoats and an apron. Her cheeks her sunburnt and her lips were chapped, but there was still an aura that Washington seemed to have. Behind her was a white-topped wagon being pulled by a pair of oxen through a swirling cloud of dust, and Washington was hold onto her cap to keep it from flying away. This painting was obviously from the days of so called 'manifest destiny' and the trails out west.

The third was definitely a bit more like Washington. Her hair was still as long as ever, but was free and laden with not just green streaks, but colors of the rainbow danced through her hair. England, who normally did not appreciate all the jarring colors in a girls hair, was oddly fascinated by the spectacle let his mind daydream for a moment. Shaking his head after a second, the Brit continued to examine this third painting.

Washington was standing in this picture, her head tilted back, revealing a blooming wildflower chain woven through her hair. Her hips were tilted to one side, revealing that she had been dancing. A long white skirt brushed the tops of her bare feet and a loose orange tank top draped around her fifteen-year-old body. A peaceful smile lit up her face, and the captured moment was quite amazing.

The last picture down the line revealed Washington kneeling in front on the intact Mt. Saint Helens. A sign next to her revealed that she was at Johnston Ridge, an area devastated by the eruption. Washington's cut and color was in its usual style, and her eyes were the same green that they had been in the last few pictures. She was clad in worn jeans and a red and black checkered shirt that brushed her thighs purposely. Peering closely at the tiny date in the corner, it was revealed to be May 17th, 1980.

Widening his eyes slightly in surprise, England shook his head to clear the buzzing thoughts away. Walking away from the portraits, the Brit continued down the hall, glancing over the various still-life painting of foggy clearings and the sun rising over a lake. Weaving through the section of the house, he could hear music coming from behind a closed door at the end of another hallway. Walking to the white door, the music got steadily louder, and listening closely, the song playing was revealed to be 'White Blank Page' by Mumford and Sons, a British band.

Smiling at the music tastes of Washington, he rapped on the door three times, and the music abruptly cut off. Soft shuffling could be heard, and the rumpling of paper was another apparent sound.

"Come in," abruptly, the statement came through, startling England for a second before he quietly opened the door. Washington was sitting on a swiveling stool in front of a massive easel that was supporting a large canvas that pictured a half done image of a pair of wolves curled together in the snow. Her hands were frozen mid-stroke, a paintbrush coated in creamy white barely touching the canvas. Looking up at England, Washington smiled quickly, finishing the stroke before setting the brush and pallet aside.

"Hello Washington," blinking slowly, the Brit took a few steps inside, and a quick glance around it to be similar to the rest of her section of the house, covered in art and color. She stood up from her seat, taking a few steps over to England.

"Hi England, how long have you been here for? Oh, please tell me Carlos didn't give you a hard time," shaking her head, Washington briefly paced the room, ruffling the back of her hair with her hand.

"I haven't seen anyone named Carlos, is that California by any chance?"

"It is, he's really narcissistic and a bit of a megalomaniac. He drives me nuts, and we fight all the time."

"Sounds a bit like another American I know," smiling at the thought, England resisted the urge to chuckle.

"Be nice, America's great, even if he's not around much. He was there for me after the incident on the mountain." Frowning briefly, Washington looked away before smiling again, but a haunted look was still present. "I need a Starbucks, come into the kitchen with me." Turning on heel, Washington whisked out of her room and down the hall.

Following closely behind, England followed Washington back through the house and into a sleek metal kitchen. A well-used, yet very high-end coffee maker sat in the corner, and a bag of high-grade coffee beans sat beside it, the word 'Seatta' scribbled on in black pen. Pouring several shots of espresso into the mug, Washington worked like a machine, steaming milk and adding chocolate to the mug. In a final flourish, she topped the concoction with a squirt of whipped cream. Sitting down at a barstool at the island, Washington motioned for England to sit beside her.

"Is that all you drink?" Looking at the strong-smelling beverage, he wrinkled his nose.

"Variations of some sort of coffee, occasionally a cup of tea, always when I'm sick, coffee makes me sick when I have a cold." Washington made a face, gagging slightly. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Certainly," in a flash, Washington was up and pouring leftover boiling water into a mug and opening the cupboard.

"Would you like chai, lemon, black or earl grey?" Twisting back to face the Brit, Washington brandished the boxes like a magnificent prize.

"Earl grey please," gesturing slightly at the box in her left hand, England watched as she quickly dropped the bag into the mug and past it to him. "Thank you."

"No problem, enjoy it," smiling again, Washington flopped back onto the stool, "there's sugar in that bowl there." England turned his head to see the round white bowl by his elbow. Scooping a teaspoons worth in, he stirred it absentmindedly, waiting for the sweet taste to permeate the whole of the tea. "So England, what brings you down here?"

"Oh, well I thought I might check up on you after the fall you took at the meeting a few days ago, it seemed like you hurt your wrist, are you feeling any better"

"Much better, it stopped hurting the next morning, states can heal up quickly from little things like that." Smiling warmly, Washington took another swig of mocha. "I'd much rather have the real Starbucks, born right here in Seattle you know." She pouted slightly at the mug, her lower lip sticking out ever so slightly.

"I do know, I mean to ask, you certainly have a talent for art. Did you make all the paintings in your section of the house?"

"Of course!" An even brighter smile lit up the girl's face, and England felt himself smile as well, pleased that she had gotten so excited. "I love to paint, it's a passion of mine. Although, I do lots of other stuff too," Washington shrugged, sipping at the mug.

"Such as?"

"Oh, it's not a big deal, you may or may not find out." Cracking a mysterious grin, Washington stretched in her seat, groaning as the muscles in her back stretched.

"Well then, so, you did the self-portraits in the hall?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I noticed you didn't have a recent portrait in that section, the last is from 1980." Almost immediately, the smile she was brandishing dropped into a sad looking frown.

"Oh well, um, geez, so," Washington starting mumbling, fiddling with her hair and pulling it over the scar. Clearing her throat, she looked England straight in the eye. "It's a long story, I'll tell it later."

"Alright then, some other time; I do have one more question though."

"Oh really, what would that be England?" Taking a long sip of tea, England cleared his throat softly.

"Would you be willing to tell me what happened on May 18th, 1980?"

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**Well here's a nice little cliffhanger to leave off on. I'll try to post as soon as possible again, but until then, enjoy your reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone! I know I haven't updated my other stories, but I was camping and this is the only story I have an idea for. This will be a longer chapter, with some storytelling and some jumping ahead in time. I will switch POV's once or twice, so keep an eye out for that.**

**Enjoy!**

**-Chi-Chan11**

**WARNING: Drug use, drinking and depression is present in this chapter.**

* * *

"May 18th? I guess I can tell you, you'd probably find out anyway, I don't think you would snoop though, you seem like a gentleman." Washington smiled, most of her face lighting up, only her eyes didn't follow, the odd emerald and smoke orbs keeping a sad glaze. "That's when I got this scar," she absentmindedly brushed a finger along the puckered mark over her right eye. "They don't know if it was the result of a burn or shrapnel. Either way, the mark is there forever."

'_That scar seems to cause her so much pain' _Filling the silence with his thoughts, England felt his heart twinge with sympathy for the sad girl.

"I had been at Coldwater II observation station with a man named David A. Johnston, he was working for the United States Geological Survey and I was a good friend of his, so I went along with him." A gloomy look flashed across Washington's face, and she shook her head to rid herself of the memory. "My stomach had been bothering me for a few months, and I knew something was wrong with the mountain, I should have said something, but David didn't know I was a personification."

"Coldwater II was close to the mountain, about five or six miles, right?" England didn't have many memories of the Mt. Saint Helens eruption, only bits and pieces of detail that didn't make much of a story when mashed together.

"Right, so I woke up really early on the 18th, my whole body hurt so bad, I felt like I was dying. David was already awake, and was checking some monitors, I sat with him, then around 8:30, an earthquake rumbled under the mountain, and the north face of the mountain began to slide away. At 8:32, David radioed in, saying 'Vancouver! Vancouver! This is it!', and then we were hit." Washington took a deep breath, shoulders shaking with the effort to keep calm.

"I lost David immediately, the lateral blast hit us and we blew away. I began choking on the ash and smoke, and the heat scorched my entire body, and it felt like I was on fire, and I almost was."

"My God," With wide eyes, England watched Washington shiver with memory. "That's horrible."

"Yeah, it was. The right half of my face hurt the worst. I could feel the skin on my face charring, and it was the worst pain I've felt in my life. According to the reports, we were hit with trees, rock and ice going at about 500 miles per hour, and David died almost immediately, they never found him." Grimacing, she wrapped her arms around herself, a soft shivering entering her shoulders and arms.

'_How many people know this story?" _Musing briefly, England stared helplessly at Washington, praying her psyche would be able to hold while she told her story.

"I was buried under the ash within minutes, and I couldn't breathe or move. Nevertheless, inside, I was broken. I had known David for about two years, I had met him when he joined the United States Geological Survey, and was working in the Cascade Mountain Range and the Aleutian Arc. He was an amazing man, and I was in love with him, even if he didn't know it." At this point, silent tears were streaming down the girl's face as she struggled to maintain some sort of control.

"Do you need to stop Washington? You don't seem to be handling yourself well." Pursing his lips slightly, England locked his eyes onto the quivering girl.

"No, I'm fine. The old memories are just a little hard. I fell unconscious at that point, and when I woke up, it had been a month and a half, and I couldn't see out of my right eye. I can see now, but it took nearly 25 years for my eyesight to come back, and the one eye is gray now, another memento to that day. The marks and the wound on my eye have healed, most are better than this one." Again she brushed a slender finger across the mark, blinking slowly. "I don't know what happened during the time I was unconscious, you'll have to speak to America."

"Perhaps I will, if it's okay with you," keeping his tone even, the Brit mustered a small smile, trying to provide some sort of comfort for the distraught Washington.

"That would be fine. All I'm really going to request is that you be on your way, I have some work to do for the governor, and America needs the written updates on the state's economy." Washington stood, walking towards the door, the Brit followed silently, cup of tea forgotten in the kitchen.

"Certainly, I'll be on my way now Washington, have a good day." Opening the door, England twisted around, smiling encouragingly at his counterpart. "Oh, and here," the Brit pulled a small business card out of his wallet, passing it to Washington. "If you need to talk, just text or call me." Smiling once more, England began descending the steps.

"Thank you, and England, please, call me Seatta." With a smile in return, she watched as England stepped outside, waving for a moment before shutting the door, leaving England alone outside.

* * *

As soon as the door shut, Washington twisted around, leaning on the door for support. Tears pricked at her eyes as the pain of all the memories flooded back. A muffled sob worked its way out of her mouth, and in a desperate attempt to hide it, Washington clamped a hand over her mouth. The only other person home was Oregon, California was out in the town, most likely flirting with any girl in his vicinity, while Idaho was back in his state, working with the governor on a finance bill.

"Hey Sea, what are you still doing out and around here?" Oregon sauntered up out of nowhere, and had obviously changed into something more her speed. She had been video chatting with a senator in Oregon, and had been wearing some nicer clothes; now she was wearing a loose faded dress that draped around her body. The abstract floral pattern was nearly indistinguishable against the weathered rose-petal thin cream-colored fabric.

"I should ask the same question Penny, weren't you going out?" With a heavy thump, Oregon leaned on the doorframe next to Washington, crossing her arms revealing a tightly rolled piece of paper that was undoubtedly smoking. "Penny-Marie, tell me that's a normal cigarette." Washington stared daggers at her sister, lip curling up in anger at her irresponsible behavior.

"Maybe it is, and maybe it isn't," a goofy grin etched across her face, revealing to Washington that her sister had in fact been smoking marijuana. "Besides, I have a card," digging through her pocket for the flimsy and obviously fake card.

"That's not legal Penny, it's going to kill you someday," Washington attempted to reach for the little package to no avail, as Oregon moved it expertly out of the way.

"Trust me on this one Seatta, it'll be a pretty sweet ride up until I get sick, and besides I can't die!" The red-head tipped back her head and let out a soft giggle, ruffling Washington's caramel locks with her free hand. "I am in fact, a personification, I'd think that's pretty obvious to you especially."

"I'm not stupid, and you know that," irate already, the ramblings of her stoned sister was certainly enough to make her snap. "I'd think I'm more responsible than you, even if I am younger." Glaring, she twisted away, intent on isolating herself in her room for a few hours of serious painting or some other form of art.

"Hey, little sis, you seem a little down." Oregon clapped a drug-heavy hand onto her sister's shoulder, and Washington was whirled around to meet her sister's eyes. "Maybe you need a little pot to relax, and I know you'll use it when your sad, and I know when your sad Sea, so come on, I'll get you some." Grabbing Washington's hand, Oregon began dragging her through the halls into Oregon's section of the house. Reaching Oregon's room, she swung the door open, and the smell of marijuana rolled over Washington like an invisible steamroller.

"Dammit Penny, how much did you have?" Pursing her lips, Washington looked quizzically over at her sister, suspicion present in her eyes.

"Just two little sis, nothing major, I've mainly been rolling them." Oregon walked into her room, plucking one of the little cylinders and a tarnished silver lighter off the desk. She lit it, holding the sharp smelling tube up to Washington's lips. "Come on, take it, I already have one."

"But Penny, I-" In the instant Washington's mouth was open, Oregon jammed the marijuana between her lips, smirking as she did so.

"Now, take a deep breath, and let yourself go Sea, let it all slip away." Feeling awkward and pressured, Washington let old habits slip up, and took a long drag of the little roll. A few long puffs later, and the sad feelings that were swirling around in her head began to dissipate. A pleasantly light and happy feeling began filling her, and in the spirit of it, Washington let out a happy giggle. "That's the spirit Sea!" With a happy grin, Oregon clapped her sister on the back again. "If you feel like you need any more, just come get one, and hey, you can keep that junky old lighter."

"Alright Penny, I will." Grabbing a handful of the marijuana, she exited the room, still nursing the first one. "I think I'll need a few of these."

"Help yourself little sis!" Washington wobbled off, her sister's voice muffled through the door. Walking into California's section of the house, she dug through the cabinets, looking for a bottle of alcohol. Spending time with the numerous Russian immigrants in her state had caused her to notice and imitate a few habits. One was the plaid scarf that coiled around her neck like a gaudy snake, while the other was her taste for vodka.

Finding a few large bottles of the chosen alcohol in a cabinet, she took them, a slight feeling of guilt echoing through her ribcage, this was wrong, wrong on so many levels. Nonetheless, she felt like she needed it, like she would regret it a thousand times if she didn't.

Slipping back into her room, she slammed the door shut and hunched down, crouching with the bottles like they were some sort of lifeline. A sudden desire to open and drink the whole bottle came over her, and in a delirium of marijuana smoke and tears, the cap was open and Washington was gulping vodka straight from the bottle, at a rate that would make Russia proud. Along with the alcohol buzz that coursed through her came a sudden feeling of nausea; for someone who had such a fondness for vodka, Washington had a heck of a time holding her liquor.

Clutching at her stomach meekly, Washington could feel her stomach swirling in a painful fashion, and was starting to regret the endeavor. The nausea spiked, causing the young state to make a dash for the bathroom, where a cup of coffee and her lunch was spilled out into the toilet. Leaning back on the cool white of the bathtub, she took another drag from the marijuana roll that she had managed to somehow hang on to.

"Wow," although she could have just thought, her befuddled mind was not processing thoughts all that well. "Well, that didn't feel so good, I think I'm done drinking vodka straight from the bottle. I'll find some shot glasses and have some more tomorrow, then I can have another one of these things, take the memories away for a while longer." With a goofy grin, she slipped into a restless and stoned sleep.

* * *

It had been about three weeks since England had last saw Washington, and he was genuinely worried now. The girl had looked visibly shaken by the whole mess of telling her story about what happened on Mt. Saint Helens, and he had expected maybe a text or something, so the absolute silence made him suspicious.

Having no intentions on being creepy, he had waited a few weeks before coming to the house to visit again. He was terribly curious though, in three weeks, any number of things could have happened. Parking the car across the street, he carefully made his way across the silent street, twisting his head back and forth to check for cars. Having made it across the road, the Brit climbed the stairs, noticing now that the bright green flip-flops were not alone, now in the company of mud encrusted work boots.

Ringing the doorbell, England listened to the sound of shuffling and the muffled talking of two girls. In an instant, the door was flung open, revealing Washington, but she looked nothing like herself.

Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and looked like it seriously needed a good scrub, in fact, all of her look unkempt and scruffy. Her jacket was being worn over a weathered dress that looked like it might have belonged to Oregon, but what shocked the Brit, was what she was holding.

In her left hand was a bottle of something that smelled too much like vodka for it not to be, the bottle was half empty, and the smell coming off her revealed she had drinking it for quite a while. In her right hand was a pipe, reeking of marijuana. In a dumbfounded stupor, England locked eyes with the stoned state before finding his voice.

"Seatta, what the bloody hell are you doing?"

* * *

**Well there's another cliffhanger to leave off on! Oh, and just for reference, those flip-flops belong to California, the boots are Idaho's. I'm very sorry for lying about meeting them, next chapter for sure. I'll try to write more for my other stories, so it may be a little bit before a new update. Thanks for reading, and reviews are always welcome!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Well hello everyone! Here is the continuation of the cliffhanger involving our beloved Washington and her issues with marijuana. Just as a reference, the states of Washington and Oregon are well known for marijuana, it is a stereotype that I hopefully will never be involved in. Also, Washington State has a high number of Russian immigrants, thus the references I made in the last chapter about the scarf and her love of vodka. The last thing, before I give the warnings for this chapter is that since the Washington/Oregon area was formerly a British territory before joining the union, while California was a Spanish territory, so they have actions and influences from said areas. Enjoy the chapter!**

**~Chi-Chan11**

**WARNINGS: Cursing, fluff and just general screaming. **

**P.S: Age wise, California is the oldest at 162 as a state, then Oregon at 154, then Washington at 123 and the youngest is Idaho also at 123.**

* * *

"S-Seatta! What the b-bloody hell?" England repeated himself shakily, staring wide-eyed at the marijuana sitting delicately between her index and middle, smoking away. The smell was atrocious, radiating off her until the pungent smell made the Brit internally gag. The strong smell of vodka was also present, so he assumed she had been drinking; she wasn't drunk though, he could tell by the way Washington was poised, standing straight and tall.

"What does it look like?" With a goofy grin, she took another drag of the little roll, sighing as the drug fogged her mind. "Penny gave me some pot, and I stole some vodka off Carlos. Letting all the bad memories slip away one shot at a time!" Washington threw back her head, laughing noisily. All England could do was stare, this was an entirely different girl than the one he had met at the World Conference and gotten to know over the last few weeks. She was a shell of her former self, one weakened by weeks of abuse.

This was bad, very, very bad. Had telling England about what had happened on Mt. Saint Helens made her deteriorate so quickly?

"Seatta," the Brit extended his hand, resting it lightly on the girl's shoulder. "You can't do this, it'll make you horribly sick, and if you don't stop, you'll regret it." Pursing his lips, he tried to think of a good threat to get Washington to stop hurting herself.

"Regret it how? I can't be arrested, I can't die since I'm a state, so what kind of threats can you give me?" She smirked, procuring a shot glass full of vodka from somewhere inside her coat. Gulping it down, she shuddered slightly as the liquid hit her stomach. "That's the stuff."

"If you don't stop, with it all, I'll, I'll-" England paused for a minute, the idea he had escaping. "I'll call America and tell him what you're doing!" It was a lame threat, England internally smacked himself, telling her father, brilliant if you were seven. Nevertheless, to England's surprise, Washington immediately paled, eyes flickering with fear.

"W-What? You can't!"

"And why not?" Crossing his arms, England stared at the state, feeling like he was arguing with a child. "It seems to be the appropriate thing to do."

"Because last time, when Penny got busted, Alfred got pissed! He yelled at her, and starting ranting about other countries and his boss getting on his back about letting a state do that, especially since we're all arguing about it!" Washington had tightened her grip on her marijuana, and with shaking hands, she took another drag, smoke billowing out of her mouth.

"That seems appropriate Seatta, it seems like it would be no surprise that America would be mad. His reasons to be mad may be a little misguided." Narrowing his eyes, he tried to think of what that might have looked like, America ranting about marijuana.

"But you can't!" Washington's eyes were stretched wide, and the pleading tone in her voice made her sound like she was going to cry. Hands shaking even more violently, she brought the little cylinder of marijuana up to her lips; watching her get ready to puff another day of her health away, made a sudden rage course through the Brit. Grabbing the roll out of the state's hand, he threw it into the bush, smirking internally as the ember snuffed out.

"There, I don't want to see you smoking that stuff Seatta, it's not good for you." Trying to sooth the distraught girl, England spoke in the gentlest voice he could muster, and internally sighed as Washington's posture relaxed. Unfortunately, the tsunami of emotion that came after caught England completely by surprise.

"But I need the stuff!" With that, the tears burst through, and the brunette spun around racing back into the house with a wail. Mentally smacking himself, the Brit reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a slim black cellphone. Scrolling through the contacts, he jammed a button, dialing someone who would be able to help.

"Hey Iggy! What's up?" America's cheery voice boomed through the phone, making England wince at the noise level.

"Bloody hell America! How many times do I have to tell you that my name is not Iggy?"

"I don't know, it's a nickname, just how it is. So what's up?" Repeating his earlier statement, England could hear the grin through the phone.

"Well, I'm at Washington's house, and I thought you might like to hear what I've found out." A short burst of silence was present, before America started speaking again.

"Why the hell are you at Washington's house? Are you stalking her or something? That's really perverted Iggy, you shouldn't be near my daughter, what are you France?" England's eye twitched at the comparison, but he held his temper.

"I came for a visit America, completely innocent, so drop it. What I thought you might like to know is that Washington has been smoking marijuana with Oregon again."

"What? Dammit not again! Man, Iggy I can't get over there to do anything, can you stay with her for a few days so she stays clean? Damn, my boss is going to have my ass!" England shook his head at the insolence of the American, it was sad that he cared more about his boss chewing him out instead of the health of one of his states.

"Do you really think that's a good idea America? She may get more benefit from being away from the others, and besides, I can't stay, I have work to do. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to set her up with a rehabilitation center."

"No way dude! I won't put Sea in a rehab place, I really don't want the public fussing over the states. Can you take her to your place or something?"

"I guess," before he could think this over, England had agreed to take the state back to his house, making sure she would be clean and sober.

'_What did I just agree to?'_

"Oh thank you Iggy! It might be helpful to know, I think Sea is a little crazy. Whenever she's sad she starts talking to herself, or an imaginary friend or something, whatever it is, she talks to something that she named T'alapas." That was certainly odd, besides the current incident with the drugs, Washington's behavior was perfectly normal for a personification.

"T'alapas? That's an odd name, I don't know the language though."

"Me neither, it's really, really weird, and once, I caught her in her room chanting in some weird language, it really freaks me out dude!" As the American ended his sentence, his voice rose an octave, betraying how much it had frightened the blonde.

Wincing at the sudden high pitch, England pulled the phone away from his ear. "Alright, alright! Relax America, I'll look into it, but she is obliged to some privacy."

"Oh, yeah, right. So I can trust you Iggy?"

"Of course you git, I think I can manage a teenage girl. Since I've gotten myself into this, I should probably make sure I don't kill her in the process. Do I need to know anything useful about Washington?" Sighing heavily, the Brit leaned against the doorframe, with all of the ruckus that had happened over the last few minutes, he was frankly surprised that one of the other residents of the house hadn't wandered outside.

"Oh, right! Besides the fact she's a little crazy, Washington has some tendencies that are frighteningly similar to Russia."

"Russia?"

"Apparently it's from all of the immigrants, either way, she gets really freaking scary sometimes." An audible shudder could be heard at the other end of the line, slightly disturbing the Brit.

'_This could be quite a challenge,' _ pausing in the conversation for a second, the Brit flipped through his thoughts, trying to collect himself before going and fetching the state.

"Dude, you still there?" America's voice broke through his thoughts, causing England to snap back to attention.

"Yes, I'm still there, I'm going to go now, good luck with your boss America." Before America had time to say anything else, England hung up. Standing up straight, he walked into the house, listening to any signs of Washington. All he could hear were heavy footsteps from the left side of the house, drawing closer and closer. Glancing to the left revealed a burly man with a blank expression, at closer inspection, he was remarkably similar to America in appearance.

This new boy had the same wheat-blonde hair, the short locks combed neatly into submission. Hazel eyes gleamed quietly, as his eyes darted around the room, searching for something unknown. He walked closer, his bulky body making the floor creak softly.

"Hello England, I'm Isaac, but most people just call me Idaho." Idaho stuck a callused hand out, and England grasped it firmly, shaking his hand briefly.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you," nodding at the quiet state, the Brit crossed his arms, staring intently at him.

"You may want to do something," out of nowhere, Idaho spoke up again, indicating down a hallway.

"What do you mean?"

"Big Brother and Sea are fighting again, it might get violent, and Penny's too stoned to do anything."

"Why don't you do anything?" Raising a thick eyebrow, England tried to figure out why such a strong looking boy couldn't simply intervene.

"It's not my place, I am the little brother after all." There was the answer. Grumbling under his breath, England stretched the muscles in his shoulders. "When they fight, things get broken."

"Fine!" Straightening up, the Brit walked into the house, leaving Idaho behind. As he walked further into the house, the sound of shouting and stomping feet could be heard from deep inside; following the noise, he was led into the kitchen, where the whole messy scene unfolded.

Washington was standing nose to nose with a spry state with sunny blonde hair. Both had twisted looks of fury etched upon their faces, and both looked fit to kill. Although he was wirey, Washington's counterpart was also well-muscled, with tanned skin making his blue eyes look even brighter.

"Seatta! Why the hell were you looting through my damn booze cabinet?"

"Because Carlos, I needed the stuff!" Washington snarled at her brother, jamming a long finger into his chest.

"I need the stuff too dumbass!" The boy who could only be California was equally as enraged, looming over his sister with an animalistic fury. "Hermana pequeña estúpida!"

To that quick burst of Spanish, Washington's jaw dropped, and her eyes blazed with wrath. "Narcissistic bastard!" As quick as her brother had spoken, she shot back rapidly, her voice rising in volume.

"Hey, hey!" Having enough of the yelling, England jumped forward, grabbing Washington's wrist and jerking her backwards. "That's enough!"

"Who the Hell are you?" California shot England a leering gaze, lip curling slightly as he spoke. "And why the Hell are you in my house?" The accent was definitely Spanish, but the blonde could curse to rival Romano.

"Your house?" Washington had jerked her arm out of England's grip, and had stormed back over to her brother, rising on her tip-toes to gaze him in the eyes. "It's my house too! It's all of our houses!"

"Ha! You keep thinking that little sister, I'm older than you by 39 years, and it'll always be that way." Smirking, he crossed his arms, and England watched disbelief, insult and finally rage flood through Washington's eyes.

"Bloody hell, you're a useless idiot who can't even mine for gold correctly." Before England could mentally applaud Washington for her (rather sudden) use of British cursing, California wound up and punched his sister in the face; causing her to reel back, a crimson wave spouting from her nose. Catching her under her shoulders, the Brit could hear a soft growling that sounded frighteningly similar to a particular Russian's death chant.

"Little brat," turning his head back, California spat one last insult before stalking back into the recesses of the house, leaving

England with a seething Washington. Releasing his grip on Washington, he listened to the young state snarl under her breath, her rage ebb and flowing as time went on. Spinning around, the brunette turned to look England in the eye.

"I'm going to get my revenge on that Golden Bastard someday, I swear it!" As her voice rose in pitch, he could see her hands shaking slightly. Gripping the state's wrists, he jerked Washington forward, forcing her head up to look him in the eye.

"Alright, listen Seatta. You need to stop now, I called America and-"

"Wait, wait." Washington interrupted the Brit, smoke and emerald eyes widening as she took the words in. "America knows?"

"Yes, he does, now as I was say-"

Before England could finish a sentence, Washington let out a distraught wail, and tears began to well in the corners of her eyes, almost as quickly as they appeared, the tears overflowed their banks, sliding down her face in a race to drip off her chin. Stumbling forward, Washington gripped England's upper arms, leaning on him for support.

"He k-knows?" Her voice wavered heavily, the sobs causing her to stutter. "Oh God, oh God, I'm completely and utterly screwed England!" The bawling continued, and the distraught state had coiled her arms around him in a death-grip style hug, causing England to gasp as the wind was forced out of him for a second.

"Hey, well, um, it'll be okay Seatta." Trying to make heads or tails of the awkward situation, England returned the hug, letting her head rest on his shoulder. Trying to ignore the feeling of tears soaking into his jacket, the Brit patted her back lightly, desperate to make the crying stop. Pulling Washington out to arm's length, he snapped his fingers a few times to get her attention.

"What a-am I going to d-do?" The sobbing had stopped for now, and Washington had progressed to hiccupping like a maniac.

"Well, America asked that I have you come back to my house in England, to get away from the atmosphere and whatnot; as well as helping you become clean and sober in the long run. So, I need you to pack some clothes and other stuff, so we can leave as soon as possible." Trying to keep the tone fairly firm, England hoped Washington would simply react blindly, without breaking down into tears again. Unfortunately, it was not so.

"I have to leave?" Washington's lower lip quivered, and tears threatened to fall again. "But I don't want to," sounding remarkably similar to a small child, she crossed her arms. Sighing crossly, England also folded his arms, giving the state a stern look.

"You have to, for your own good."

All at once, the tears started to stream again, and Washington spun around, running towards the general direction of her room. Giving a muffled groan, the Brit massaged his temple with his left hand, trying to decide what to do.

'_This has turned into a fine mess.'_

Waiting a few seconds, England followed Washington, winding through the halls of the sprawling house. Coming to the familiar white door of Washington's room, he could hear her voice softly echoing down the hall.

"T'alapas, this i-is horrible! I don't want to l-leave!" According to America, this was the "crazy behavior" that Washington had. That language, it was completely unfamiliar to England, he wasn't even sure he knew what language it was. Leaning against the door for a second, he listened closely, trying to get more out of the talking. "I'll miss Penny and Isaac, and I can't go out and walk in the woods and work on my medicines." A heavy sigh could be heard through the door, and now, England was extremely curious.

"Hello, Seatta, are you alright?" opening the door, England popped his head in, looking down to Washington sitting on the floor. This in itself was completely normal, but the animal curled in her lap was certainly not. It was a coyote, with gray-brown fur flecked with black, but it's body was slightly see-through and iridescent. Widening his eyes, England looked up to stare at Washington.

"You see them too?"

* * *

**Well, here's that! By the way, T'alapas is Chinook for "coyote", creative, huh? Thanks for reading, and reviews make my day!**

**P.S- The Spanish phrase uttered by California translates to "stupid little sister". I used Google Translate for it, so if it's not right, forgive me.**


End file.
